Vena the RavenHaired: Tomb Raider
by Runt Thunderbelch
Summary: Vena the Raven-Haired and 17 of her great grandchildren seek to rob a tomb designed by Bloody Stupid Johnson.   One shot


Disc/laimer: Terry Pratchett owns Discworld, Vena the Raven-Haired, You Bastard, Death, Bloody Stupid Johnson and all of the Bloody Stupid Johnson inventions and designs mentioned in the travel brochure. However, Ptiophurnichur, the Inverted Pyramid, and the various great grandchildren of Vena the Raven-Haired are mine (although not in any paternity suit kind of way).

Vena the Raven-Haired: Tomb Raider

By

Runt Thunderbelch

(i)

The most plundered tomb on the entire face of Discworld was the Inverted Pyramid, designed by the world-famous architect, Bloody Stupid Johnson. Perhaps its pointy-end-down design could have thwarted would-be grave robbers if B.S. Johnson hadn't also placed the entrances in plain view right next to the ground-level vertex. Legend said that the Pharaoh's burial treasure was stolen before his corpse was even lukewarm.(n1) And then body snatchers promptly snatched his royal body.

Nowadays, Djelibeybian families would spend their weekends picnicking in the shade of the Inverted Pyramid, while the kiddies would clamber into one of its many not-so-secret entrances and would run amok along its dusty passages and scamper up and down its ancient stairways. Treasure rooms, long-since emptied, provided for hours of fun-fill exploration. Most of the kids would find their way back out by the time their families left for home.

On the first day of each Year of the Hare, due to reasons no one could adequately explain, a mystical yet invisible rabbit would hide chocolate eggs and candy chicks throughout the tomb, and the little kiddies would go sugar-coated crazy.

Vena the Raven-Haired along with seventeen of her great grandchildren(n2) stood, staring up in disbelief at it. Then she looked down at the genuine, money-back-guaranteed treasure map she'd been sold in Anhk-Morpork by that nice Dibbler fellow, and then she looked back up at the Inverted Pyramids with its hoards of small children running in and out. Then she looked back down at the treasure map.

"Is that where the treasure is, Great Grandmama?"

"That's what our map says, dear," Vena replied.

"I don't think it's in there anymore."

Next to them, a foul-tempered camel named You Bastard chewed his lunch for the second time. Under long, sweeping eyelashes that would have turned handmaidens green with envy, the camel coolly regarded Bloody Stupid Johnson's legendary Inverted Pyramid and thought: _Cudcudcud_, interesting.

Vena the Raven-Haired's 12th great grandchild, Julianne Jo the Overly Literate, read from the travel brochure she had purchased in the Grand Agoura:

"Bloody Stupid Johnson, born Bergholt Stuttley Johnson, was a world-famous inventor and architect. Johnson claimed that a truly good inventor ought to be able to invent anything and that a truly infinite multiverse ought to contain all kinds of good things, bad things, and just plain weird things. Johnson's designs are generally considered to be ingenious, non-genius, trans-genius and anti-genius. They include the Colossus of Morpork, the Commemorative Arch for Battle of Crumhorn and the Hanging Gardens of Ankh (each of which can fit into a skinny man's pocket). He also created the Collapsed Tower of Quirm and the terrifying Archchancellor Weatherwax's Bathroom in the Unseen University** (**or as it more properly known: the _Patent 'Typhoon' Superior Indoor Ablutorium with Automatic Soap Dish_). He engineered the Anhk-Morpork Post Office sorting engine (built around a wheel that, for the sake of tidiness, has a pi of exactly 3, not 3.14-mumble-mumble-mumble-and-a-bit. To accomplish this, the engine exists simultaneously in several layers of spacetime, resulting in the receipt of mail from the future, from alternate multiverses, and from people who claimed they have put the check in the mail but really haven't). Johnson designed the Palace Gardens of the Patrician, which features an ornamental trout lake 150 years long and an inch wide, a chiming sundial, a maze so small people got lost looking for it, a beehive large enough to accommodate 10-foot-long honey bees, and a fountain which groans ominously before firing a stone cherub 50 feet into the air. He popularized the phrase: '_It Might Look A Bit Messy Now But Just You Come Back In Five Hundred Years' Time.'_"

Vena the Raven-Hair muttered, "Bloody Stupid."

Next to her, You Bastard was also gazing at the Inverted Pyramid. He thought, Let W equal the density of the hypotenuse. Let the ratio of height-to-width be less than or equal to 1. As the sun approaches its 90-degree zenith, let the humidity of the air approach but not equal 0. _Cudcudcud._ Let the adhesion co-efficient of the limestone blocks equal 7.

Vena's 8th great grandchild, Derrick the Deranged, crept ever closer to the camel, staring in wonder deep into its amber eyes.

If Angle A is 30, Angle B is 90, but Angle C is not 120, _cudcudcud, _then let . . .

You Bastard ceased his calculations.

Like all camels, You Bastard hated children.(n3) His hatred for them was inversely related to their distance from him. The closer the kid, the greater the hatred. Derrick the Deranged was too way close and was getting way too closer. Camels had become the greatest mathematicians in Discworld for one simple purpose: for hocking a gob of cud with unerring accuracy at any human being who was being overly annoying(n4). Derrick the Deranged had well and truly qualified.

Usually, You Bastard's mind would be churning out numbers on trajectory, deflections of gravitational anomalies, wind resistance, weight and gelatinousness of the selected cud, the target's directional vector (if any), thaumic interference, and air humidity. But there was no need because this stupid kid had blundered deep into can't-miss range.

Cease gastric peristaltic muscle contractions, bring cud into firing position, aim mouth, align esophagus, focus eyes, inhale fully, exhale partially, hold, steady: FIRE!

Derrick the Deranged fell over backwards, and the cud flew harmlessly over him.

Camels have a unique expression of surprise. It is: [...]. To wit, that is, and in other words, camels never react with surprise. It would never occur to one to even blink. You Bastard turned his attention back to Bloody Stupid Johnson's Inverted Pyramid.

Derrick the Deranged picked himself up, brushed the sand off, and began to again stare into the eyes of the camel as he came closer and closer.

Camels have a saying: _If I spit at you once, and you dodge, shame on you. If I spit at you twice, and you dodge again, shame on me._ So You Bastard attempted to pretend that Derrick the Deranged did not exist.

The little boy's head got so close that it actually touched the head of You Bastard.

"Derrick," scolded his great grandmother, "Leave that poor camel alone."

"He knows."

"What does he know, dear?"

"He knows where the treasure is hidden."

Trudy Jean the All-Knowing sighed in exasperation. "There is no treasure, you moron. Grave robbers stole it long ago."

"He knows where it is."

Vena shook her head. "He doesn't know anything, dear. He's just a stupid camel."

You Bastard's snakelike neck swung around. A stupid what? Cease gastric peristaltic muscle contractions, bring cud into firing position, aim mouth, align esophagus . . .

Derrick whispered to the camel. "I'm not going to tell you about what my great grandma did to the last camel that spat at her. But we're still picking pieces of barbeque out from between our teeth."

You Bastard looked at Derrick and thought: [...]. He mulled what the boy had said and then went back to chewing his cud.

Derrick insisted he could read the thoughts of animals. The rest of the family knew this was impossible, but when they couldn't dissuade him, they saddled him his colorful moniker.

Derrick the Deranged gazed deep into You Bastard's mind. When the boy found what he was looking for, he turned around and sat heavily onto the sand. He stared in disbelief at the Inverted Pyramid. Was it really as simple as that?

(ii)

Vena the Raven-Haired and her oldest great granddaughter Irene Ironfist were on diaper duty.

"I shouldn't have brought you kids here. I shouldn't have brought you kids here. I shouldn't have brought you kids here," muttered Vena over and over as she was removing a toxically-soiled diaper from one of the wee ones.

"Oh hush up, Great Grandmama," chided Irene. "How were you to know?"

"Know what? That the map was a phony? Maybe because every treasure map I have ever bought in my whole life turned out to by a phony. Why did I expect this one to be any different? Irene, I could have been somebody. I was Vena the Raven-Haired. My hair was eight times blacker than black; my figure was more sensual than a cobra's; I had eyes so dark they could drown a man. I could have married any number of kings or princes or wealthy magnates. But I was a barbarian, obsessed with the pursuit of lost treasure. I wandered all over the Disc looking for it, but I never found any. Never. Not once. And now I've dragged you kids along with me to witness my latest failure. What kind of great grandmother am I, anyway?"

"A wonderful one! You took us to Anhk-Morpork. That alone is a memory which none of us will ever forget."

"Yes, uh, sorry about that."

"We got to go on a boat. We now get to see the fabled land of Djelibeybi, a place that up till now, we've only read about (those of us who can read). We've got to see one of the Eight Wonders of the Discworld!"

Vena the Raven-Haired squinted up at the Inverted Pyramid. "Yes, a person can't help but wonder what the heck were they thinking."

(iii)

"Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, and, and, and, who's missing?"

"Derrick, Great Grandmama."

"Has anybody seen him?"

"I saw him a couple of hours ago. He was headed into the Inverted Pyramid."

"Oh no," Trudy Jean the All-Knowing sighed in exasperation. "The little twerp has gotten himself lost in there."

"Can't we just leave him in there, Great Grandma?"

"No. We need some of you older kids to go in there and find him. _And don't you get lost too!_ Look, the sun's going down, and all the other families are packing up to leave. So let's shake a leg."

"I'll shake his leg all right," growled Lugg the Enforcer as he rolled up his mighty fist. He was Vena the Raven-Haired's 3rd great grandchild and the oldest of the boys. "And I'll wring his neck too." He led a cadre of the older great grandchildren up into the Inverted Pyramid.

The rest of the kids continued packing. The smaller ones played tag or sucked on milk-soaked pieces of cloth.

(iii)

About 15 minutes later, Derrick the Deranged slipped out of one of the entrances and started digging, digging, digging. The sand was dry and so the digging was very easy.

Several minutes later, Lugg the Enforcer emerged to tell his great grandmother that the older kids had had no luck in finding Derrick. He found Derrick. "Arrghh!"

The smaller boy turned on his back and started kicking.

Lugg knocked the flying feet away. "I'm going to murder you, you little snot!"

Derrick kicked even harder, but one almighty kicked sent him toppling backwards through the sand into a hole that was opening up. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Great Grandma, everybody, I found Derrick!"

Vena the Raven-Haired and some of the children started coming towards him.

"Ow! Hey! Ouch! Stop it, you little roach! Yow! Great Grandma, Derrick is throwing things at me! Ow! Cut it out! Ouch! Great Grandma, he's throwing coins at me! Ow! I said stop it! Iee! Really heavy coins! Ow! Gold coins!"

Vena's jaw dropped.

Lugg realized what he'd just said and stared at the hole. A coin came sailing out and nailed him between the eyes. "Hey!"

"Did you say gold?"

An avalanche of children poured forwards. The ones in the Inverted Pyramid came stumbling back into the quickly fading sunlight.

"Gold?"

(iv)

The spirit of Ptiophurnichur wandered into the High Antechamber of his royal tomb to find a boy hurling gemstones out through the entryway at another bigger boy looming there.

"Hey kid!" bellowed the Pharaoh. "What are you doing? Those are my . . . That's my cat idol! Put it down! I didn't say throw it out that other kid, I said- Hey! No! That's my wife's jewelry! Ulp, that was my wife's jewelry. Oh, she's going to be so mad when she finds out."

He floated over and grabbed the boy, that is, tried to grab the boy. He tried again. It was like trying to grab smoke. "Hey kid! Stop it! Stop it, do you hear me? Stop!" He took a swing, but his fist went right through the kid's face.

"It's mine!" Ptiophurnichur shrieked. "Mine, mine, mine!"

(v)

The children worked all night, stripping the gold, silver and jewels from the antechamber, bringing it up through the little hole, loading it aboard the protesting camel, guiding the camel down to their boat, filling its hull with the plundered treasures, and then taking the camel back for yet another load.

Vena the Raven-Haired tut-tutted around, making sure that the children weren't overtiring themselves, that the cranky ones were put down for naps, and that all their non-essentials were tossed out of the boat so that they would have more room for gold.

When You Bastard began contemplating hocking some cud at one of the children, Derrick would whisper the word "barbecue" to him. That would calm him right down.

But if truth be told, the camel wasn't half as upset as he pretended. He knew that the traditional finder's fee was 10%, and he was most certainly the finder. He had been the only one to grasp the fact that the only way to keep the Inverted Pyramid upright was to anchor with an equally heavy object. And what made more sense than to hide a real tomb underneath a fake one? After plundering a tomb, what grave robber would think to look under that tomb for a second one?

You Bastard also knew that a floating object displaced its own weight of water while a submerged object displaced its own volume of water. The boat was still floating, so he need merely observe how far down into the water is was, calculate the volume of water it was displacing, multiply that volume by the current market rate for gold, and he could calculate the total amount of treasure taken. Divide that by ten, and he knew what his cut would be. You Bastard was now a fabulously wealthy camel.

As the eastern skies began to turn pink with the coming dawn, Vena the Raven-Haired organized the cleanup. The hole was filled in with sand; any debris was tossed into the Djel; and palm fronds were used to erase any traces of their footprints. They piled into their boat.

"We're rich," said Trudy Jean the All-Knowing. "Richer than any of us dreamed possible."

"But what about the camel?" asked Derrick the Deranged. "Are we just going to leave him on the shore like that? Aren't we going to take him with us?"

"We're overloaded as it is," replied Lugg. "And he weighs, what, 1200 pounds? You want us to throw 1200 pounds of treasure overboard to make room for him?"

"Mmmmooooaaaagggghhhhhkkk!" moaned You Bastard, which is camel talk for: "What about my finder's fee?"

From between grains of sand, the spirit of Ptiophurnichur seeped into the open air. "Stop, stop!" he cried. "That's my treasure. Come back! Come back, you bastards!"

The camel looked at him curiously. "Mmmgggghhhhp," which is camel talked for: "What? I'm standing right here."

"It's not fair! It's not fair!"

"Mmmmnnnnggggph," said You Bastard, which is camel talk for: "Whoever said life was fair?"

"WHOEVER SAID DEATH WAS FAIR?"

Ptiophurnichur turned in horror to see a black-cloaked figure holding a scythe. "No. Uh, I just stepped out for a breath of fresh air. It was getting stuffy in there."

"OUT HERE, TIME PASSES. THUS, IT'S TIME YOU MOVED ON TO THE NEXT WORLD."

"But us, but uh, but uh, oh damn. Okay. I'll just slip back and pack a few things, then shall I?"

"YOU CAN'T TAKE IT WITH YOU."

"I know! I know! That's why I was staying here!"

(vi)

The boat didn't so much sail down the Djel as waddle because it was so heavily ladened.

"Okay," said Lugg. "How are we going to divide up the treasure? I'm figuring that the older kids deserve more, and because the boys did most of the carrying-"

"It's simple," declared Vena the Raven-Haired. "We will divide it into 18 equal shares. Everyone will get one share."

"Even Stephanie Soggybritches?" gasped Irene Ironfist, pointing at the baby.

"Even Stephanie Soggybritches," replied their great grandmother. "This is my expedition, you are here at my invitation, you are my great grandchildren, and so what I say goes."

Derrick the Deranged nodded. After a while he asked, "Does anyone here no how to do long division?"

It got very quiet on that boat.

Finally, Trudy Jean the All-Knowing sighed, "There's never a mathematician around when you need one."

The End

ENDNOTES:

1 Djelibeybian bodies only become lukewarm. This desert nation has no word for "cold."

2 Vena the Raven-Haired had had her nickname for a really, really long time.

3 Okay, camels do not like ANYBODY.

4 Camels define "overly annoying" broadly enough to include such actions as "walking," "not walking," "breathing," and "existing."


End file.
